


Curiosity

by Gloomier



Series: Legend-verse [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, Bilbo is a Jerk, Frerin Lives, Frerin is a Shit, Frottage, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Mild Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thorin Is Not Amused, probably pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gloomier/pseuds/Gloomier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frerin has gotten it into his head that hobbits are rather special and naturally he has to share these thoughts with Thorin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Long lost chapter 3... well this would have been chapter 3 but it took Not Quite Legend down a path I didn't want it to take so I scrapped it and wrote something different. Here it is as promised (extremely late). It's been sitting in my docs for a couple months (and partially incomplete) and likely would have stayed there for quite a while longer. 
> 
> Very many thank you's to [Airebellah](http://airebellah.tumblr.com/) for looking it over (it wouldn't have been completed with her help).  
>    
> [My Tumblr](http://tea-blitz.tumblr.com/)

The market was at its busiest, teeming with merchants and market goers.

Thorin watched as his nephews and Bilbo perused a stall selling a vast assortment of sweets. He had volunteered to escort his hobbit guest to the market when Bilbo had shown great interest in visiting it; Fíli and Kíli invited themselves, if only to escape Dís and her over-protectiveness. And Frerin–

“I bet the Hobbit's cock is as big as his feet,” Frerin commented without restraint, his voice only loud enough to reach Thorin's ear.

_Where would he hide it?_ Thorin wondered, stealing inconspicuous glances of the hobbit's midsection. “Don't be ridiculous.”

There was no way Frerin's words could be true. Bilbo was far too small to have such _generous anatomy;_ previous dwarves he'd had in his bed were not so generously gifted – not even he was so divinely blessed.

“Look at him, brother.” Frerin nodded in Bilbo's direction, not that Thorin needed to be told. “A creature like him is bound to have _special attributes_.”

“Special attributes,” Thorin repeated with a disbelieving snort.

There certainly was something special about Bilbo, Thorin couldn't deny it. The things he knew about hobbits could barely fill a page in a book, and Frerin's words indeed made him curious. His gaze lingered on Bilbo and it wasn't until the hobbit was staring back at him – eyebrow raised – that Thorin realized what he was doing it.

“You and him are on better terms now, are you not?” Frerin said idly.

His brother knew good and well that there had been a vast improvement in their relationship. “What of it?”

“Perhaps you should find out...” Frerin gestured suggestively. “You know – for the betterment of dwarven society.”

“Mahal wept!” Thorin scoffed. “You don't mean to have me bed him to sate your filthy curiosity?!”

“I'll bet that he's good in bed too. Do not say that you're not curious, brother – I know that it's been awhile since your last conquest,” Frerin smirked.

“That's none of your business,” Thorin growled, pinning him with an ineffective glare.

“I wonder what sort of interesting quirks he has a mind for. He certainly speaks of his hobbit hole often enough.”

“Smial,” Thorin grumbled pointedly, unable to fight the blush caused by such a lewd innuendo.

“I much prefer to call it hobbit hole,” Frerin amended as he rubbed his chin, smirking mischievously.

Their conversation swam around in his mind the rest of the day and a full day after that. The seed of curiosity that Frerin planted in his mind firmly took root, consuming all other thoughts.

Thorin found that when Bilbo and he stood in the same room or passed each other in a corridor he could not stop staring. By evening of the third day, his curiosity burned hotter than the great forges of Erebor – it had become an unbearable thirst, which by now he was begging to have quenched.

“Thorin, are you alright?” Bilbo asked, concern evident in his tone as he poured himself a cup of tea.

“No– yes, yes everything is fine,” Thorin said distractedly, nearly over filling his own cup with the hot liquid.  

Bilbo cast him an unimpressed look, hardly convinced. “You've been giving me funny looks for the past two days now – you certainly don't seem _fine_.”

Thorin snatched up his cup and gulped down his tea, paying little mind to the scalding liquid; the burn of it down his throat was another welcoming distraction.

For a brief moment, the Prince considered telling him if only to save his sanity. It would be embarrassing for him to reveal such vulgar imaginings to someone he only had just begun courting a rocky friendship with.

“I'm fi–”

“Are we not friends, Thorin?” Bilbo interrupted, placing his tea cup back on the table between their arm chairs. “Will you not be honest with me in this? Have we not moved past our discord, our distrust?”

“I do trust you...”

“But?”

“It would not be appropriate. Frerin is acting like a dwarfling.”

It was a poor decision to mention Frerin's name for Bilbo understood all too well, it seemed, the crude things that his brother was capable of spewing. The hobbit pinned him with an unreadable stare and that's when Thorin knew he was in for trouble.

“What did Frerin tell you about Hobbits?” Bilbo asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

_He should not be allowed to wield such a fierce stare, for such a small creature_ , Thorin thought. “He said nothing,” Thorin evaded.

“If it's indeed nothing, then you won't have a problem speaking it; I doubt it's something I haven't heard already,” Bilbo challenged.

Thorin could find no other way to avoid the catastrophe, he would tell Bilbo the things that Frerin said and Bilbo would never wish to speak to him again.

“Thorin.”

_Mahal_ have mercy on him _._

“Frerin would have me believe that hobbit _size_ is proportional to their feet,” Thorin explained slowly.

If it were under any other circumstance Thorin would have found it extremely amusing how quickly Bilbo's expressions changed as he silently worked out  what Thorin had meant. There were many scenarios dancing around Thorin's head, several involving very cruel punishments to his admission–

“I hope that Frerin hasn't been telling that to everyone he speaks with,” Bilbo snickered, quickly turning to full-on laughter.

Thorin shrugged instead, not really having a true answer. He did his best to avoid finding out what Frerin did in his free time, stolen or otherwise. Thorin poured himself a fresh cup of tea, sipping a little slower this time ‘round while he waited for Bilbo's mirth to peter off – yet it seemed to go ever on, the melodic noise continuing to fill the parlor.

After several moments Bilbo's laughter morphed into giggling as he wiped errant tears away brought on by his uncontrollable amusement. Thorin was a little more disappointed than he'd care to admit; the hobbit hadn't actually given him an answer to dispel the ridiculous innuendo.

Bilbo regained a measure of seriousness as he picked up his cup again, licking his lips before meeting the rim. Thorin found himself hard-pressed to ignore such a lewd display, impossible really, he stared anyway and Bilbo caught his gaze and held it – a glimmer of mischievousness lay hidden within.

“Is there anything else that _you're_ curious about?” Bilbo asked, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“He may have suggested that y–hobbits were quite _experienced_ ,” Thorin said, trying to spare himself further embarrassment, to poor effect. Bilbo understood immediately what the Prince was alluding to; this time he even had the audacity to shoot Thorin a knowing smirk.

He was going to murder Frerin.

“I daresay, _that_ is probably the only true thing Frerin has managed to guess so far,” Bilbo said casually.

The implication that Bilbo was experienced with such activities made Thorin shudder; his body attenuated to that single grain of knowledge. His bed partners were nothing out of the ordinary, more often than not he found himself doing all the work, offering pleasure but never truly receiving any himself.

The Hobbit had never shown such inclinations, until now. Never once had Bilbo batted an eyelash in his direction or anyone else's for that matter – and Thorin would have known if he had. He barely registered the calculated moves Bilbo took: carefully setting his cup back down on the table, heaving himself up off his chair to meander around the table to where the Prince sat in his own arm chair.

It was all very ethereal – more graceful than any elf he had ever spared a glare at.

With a gentleness Thorin hadn't experienced in a very long time, Bilbo removed the tea cup cradled in his big hands, setting it aside. Thorin was at a complete loss when Bilbo crawled onto his lap, straddling his thighs perfectly, pressing him deeper into the chair. The hobbit didn't seem to mind sharing such close quarters; in fact there was a smug air about him if the victorious grin was anything to go by.

“I've heard a great many stories about _you_ , my Prince, though I must say that I have no idea how Frerin knows so much about with whom you share your bed,” Bilbo said, laying his hands upon Thorin's chest. “You are quite _experienced_ yourself, if I may be so bold to say.”

Though their contact was separated by the cloth of his tunic, it was electrifying. Thorin swallowed thickly, doing everything within his power to keep himself in check. It was increasingly difficult to do so while Bilbo dragged his small hands across the breadth of his chest.

“I'd like to not think about how my brother knows such private things about me.” Thorin squirmed under Bilbo's touch. “There are somethings dwarves do not share, even with kin.”

Further conversation was communicated through the touch of lips.

Bilbo's lips were soft and warm, damp from licking the remnants of tea from them – far different from any other pair of lips Thorin's ever had the pleasure to kiss. The hobbit's bare face was smooth – an odd feeling to be sure – as is glided across his own bearded cheeks with little resistance. His mouth devoured Bilbo's breathy moans greedily as he deftly licked his way into the clever little mouth, coaxing the hobbit's tongue out to play. Bilbo's hands drifted up into his hair, grasping twin handfuls of dark locks – gently tugging and guiding Thorin's head as he pleased.

Bilbo slid his lips from Thorin’s, dragging them across a bearded cheek to suckle at an earlobe, making Thorin shudder. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to grind up into Bilbo as the the hobbit worried the lobe between his teeth. As the hobbit did as he pleased Thorin in turn explored Bilbo’s body; he ran his big hands down Bilbo’s thighs, studiously ignoring Bilbo’s crotch before sliding them back up and around the hobbit’s hips, clutching at the horribly distracting arse he’d found himself staring at more and more. Thorin loved the way Bilbo felt in his hands, he _needed_ to feel the hobbit’s naked skin against his own.

The haze of pleasure was thick and Thorin was vaguely aware that Bilbo was speaking to him, and then there was a hand pressing against his throbbing cock.

He couldn’t suppress a loud groan as Bilbo began rubbing at his clothed erection.“Mahal–”

Thorin was beginning to find the hobbit infuriating again as the pressure on his cock never changed, he _needed_ more – rutting into Bilbo’s hand wasn’t enough… Then the hand disappeared and Thorin’s eyes snapped open – he hadn’t even realized they’d closed – just as Bilbo started to shimmy off his thighs and out of the chair.

Thorin _did not_ whine when Bilbo grinned at him, adjusted his clothes and left Thorin’s quarters without another word.

He could still taste Bilbo on his lips even now as he glared down at his erection that strained against his trousers. The hobbit was a _demon_ , a very cruel demon to leave him in such a desperate state. His cock was beginning to ache and extended arousal was making him a bit light headed; Bilbo left him little choice and Thorin was forced to pick at the knots keeping his trousers closed.

He slouched deeper into the chair and took himself in hand, imagining it was Bilbo’s hands wrapping around his cock, slowly bringing him to his climax as the breath in his lungs was kissed out of him.

 

*

  


Days later the memory of Bilbo sitting in his lap still plagued Thorin.

When he was alone, his thoughts ran wild and Thorin lewdly imaged the hobbit doing all sorts of things to his body. When he was out and about Thorin would find himself inexplicably near Bilbo. The little touches he received from the hobbit were maddening; just this morning the cretin had rested a hand on Thorin’s thigh, trailing fingers up and down the inside of it during the communal breakfast – he had to make a run for his room afterwards.

Having hours between then and now to calm down did nothing for Thorin when Bilbo shot him a saucy wink from across the corridor. To Thorin’s extreme embarrassment his cock hardened instantly.

“I didn’t realize you took to carrying a hammer around in your pocket, brother.”

Thorin took a calming breath, silently wishing that he didn’t have troublesome younger siblings as he elbowed Frerin hard in the ribs.

He stalked off in Bilbo’s direction with every intention of repaying the cruel hobbit.


End file.
